Partners
by Miranda Sparks
Summary: A crack Batman/Transformers x-over. Probably AU. Just another night in Gotham, busting lunatics and Decepticons...


The white sportscar barrels down the highway at eighty miles per hour. It cuts off traffic left and right and trips every radar signal from Gotham to Bludhaven. Soon the cops will be on his tail, but it wasn't the cops he was worried about.

Camoflagued in sleek black and invisible against the backdrop of the night the Batmobile roars like a hungry jaguar closing in on it's prey. Behind the wheel the Dark Knight sits, arms folded, biding his time until he can lay hands on his foe.

A sinister smile cracks his usual frown. He loves the chase. He loves the adrenaline. He loves when things come together. He loves to get his hands dirty. Connecting his fist to the scum of this city makes the hard hours worth it, even if the corrupt police and politicians seek to undo it all.

The Caped Crusader. The Dark Knight. Some even say the world's greatest detective. He is these things and more, and he takes great pride in his work.

He is the god-damned Batman, and in another world... he would have made a great Autobot.

"Twenty to one says he'll swing onto the off-ramp at the last second," came an eager voice from the console. "What do you say, Bats?"

"Keep going," the Batman ordered grimly as though he were Clint Eastwood. "We'll take him on the overpass."

The sportscar turns just as they knew it would. Panicked scum were predictable and dangerous, but the pair knew exactly how to take care of them.

"Now!"

This was what they'd prepared for: the Batman flies from his seat and over the ledge, gliding downwards on a cape like leather wings. A series of smoke bombs herald his way, concealing the path of his target and bringing it screeching to a halt.

He lands on the hood: hard. The scum inside named Two-Face contorted his scars in frustration. Batman sneers at him: does the rotten bastard really think he's going to get away?

Two-Face doesn't hesitate in drawing his weapon. "Eat plasma, you caped freak!"

Guns. Batman hates guns. They are the great equalizer giving man, woman and child power over life and death that none of them deserve. Two-Face will be brutally punished for bringing it into his city: hell, he'll be lucky to walk in the next year.

Purple death rays shatter the windscreen between them and narrowly miss their target. _Even worse than guns,_ Batman thinks, _is a bullshit science fiction gun!_

"Get that thing off my planet!" he roars and plunges his arm inside to snare his quarry's throat.

The sportscar between them transforms, ejecting them both off it's smooth body while turning pieces realign and become something different: something monstrous. Standing above them the Decepticon, Runamuck, looks down on them both with cold, red eyes of pure hatred.

"Stinking humans," he scoffs at his partner. "Is this the one you're so scared of, Dent? I'll crush him under my foot!"

"Not so fast, Decepti-creep!"

Blazing from the sky a blast of yellow forces the robot back. Standing above them all eagerly on top of the overpass, wearing bat-wing spoilers and a sly grin behind his smoking arm cannon looms the Autobot formerly known as Hot Rod.

The Batman dares not take his eyes from his opponent for a second. He's determined, focused, more than any other human that has ever existed.

"You take Runamuck," he orders. "I'll take Two-Face!"

Without so much as a 'yes, sir' Bat-Rod is in motion, leaping from the heights and tackling the evil robot over the ramps edge. Like his partner he takes pride in his work, and will not rest until every last Decepticon has been captured or scrapped.

Dent screams like a madman. He's frothing at the mouth: his darker half is running wild and out of control. Not even his dual personality can contain it.

"What's that, Batman!? You think you're better than me!?"

No time for talking. There's only cold, calculated action. Take the psycho down, kick the sci-fi gun out of his hand and make him eat the pavement. He presses his foot against Two-Faces back, then puts all his weight on it so he won't get up.

"Yes," the Batman says and listens to Dent sniffling through the blood pooring from his broken nose.

Still the crazy man doesn't stop laughing. Maybe he's spent too much time around the Joker, or maybe he still has another trick up his sleeve.

"Oh, you got me, Batman," he slurps. "You got me good!"

There, from behind. The Dark Knight turns to see a short Decepticon that was once in the shape of a rifle. It charges it's own, smaller weapon and prepares to fire.

_You're slow_, Batman curses himself as he reaches for a batarang. He knows he won't make it. By the time he flicks his wrist there will have already been a large hole made through his skull left by a robot with a very effective disguise.

"See you in Hell," Two-Face spits. Filthy dog.

Suddenly the small machine explodes. A blast tears through it's chest, leaving it a smoldering shell that falls to the hard, unforgiving pavement.

Batman's glare snaps back to the place where Bat-Rod stands with weapon freshly fired and eyes narrowed on the mechanical corpse before them.

The transformer stood as though he expected kudos. Fat chance: not when you're with the Dark Knight.

"Where's Runamuck?"

"Got away," Bat-Rod reports.

With a contemptuous glare Batman turns his attention back on Two-Face. "Don't worry about me. Worry about the task at hand. There are too many Decepticons out there, and too many maniacs to lock back up in Arkham."

The Autobot Batmobile smiles. He's come to expect that kind of reaction. Then again, he knows exactly who he's working with. "You're welcome."

For the second time that night the Batman lets loose a smile, this one in silent gratitude for the favor he'd been given. Though he'd had partners before none had been as effective as the one he shared now in the form of his faithful vehicle.

"Come on," he scowls. "Let's put this nut-job away for good."

Two-Face spits into the dirt. "Screw you, Bat-freaks!"

"You know the night is still young," the Autobot offers. He and the Batman are exactly alike. Both are eager to get back in the game: perhaps too eager for their own good.

"Bat Rod," the Dark Knight says with a sly, mischievous grin. "Transform and roll out!"

**THE END**


End file.
